Matt Weston
There’s something about extinguishing a pencil of wax on a wrapped cake at a racetrack hamburger place that makes you think about all the things you’ve seen and done, all the things you want to do, and everything that has happened to bring you to where you currently are. Already, I feel like I’ve lived a complete a joyous life. I’ve been lucky to grow up through turmoil, deal with death directly, shake under a navy night sky, have my heart smushed by toes with only a faint scar to show, see things in my carpet, suck down my America, watch an ecosystem change for a calendar year, traverse our parks and stomp around deserts, tundras, mountains, forests, and coasts, become a fully functioning all my own adult while not missing the passing of all that wild youth, and keep those I care about close.